Steve sat in his apartment, notepad and pen on his coffee table and laptop on the couch beside him. His assignment from Natasha was turning out to be harder than he thought.

When most guys thought or talked of their ideal girl it was always the physical that came out. Curvy brunette, slim but large breasted blonde, petite red head. Thinking back over conversations with Bucky or Sam they had never given more details than that.

Figuring out the kind of someone to spend the rest of his life with wasn't something he had ever given serious thought to. What did he want in a woman? Would what he wanted be compatible with the current time? What were his core beliefs so he could figure out his dream womans?

The task before him was incredibly daunting. As a man out of time and with little romantic experience how could he really know what he wanted?

He had only ever really loved one woman but time and fate had stolen away whatever might have been between them. She was his ideal woman, the incredible Peggy Carter. Smart, opinionated with a strong sense of right and wrong who was willing to fight for it and stand up for herself. But always with a sense of grace and calm about her that captured your attention.

Steve mused over how different yet similar Natasha and Peggy were and how much he wished he could have taken Peggy out for a date. Suddenly inspired Steve's fingers flew across the laptop, researching a very specific activity.

I'm going to plan the date I always wish I could have shared with Peggy. That would have been the start of our love story.

His internet search found exactly what he was looking for, locally and in the time frame he needed. He smiled. This date was going to give him a home field advantage, the first he ever had over Natasha and was going to be fun. He couldn't wait.

Natasha's phone beeped 3 days later with a message from Steve.

Saturday night at 6pm. I'll pick you up from yours. Dress 40s style.

Natasha read and reread the message, trying to figure out the last part.

I guess it makes sense. If Steve was planning a date with a girl he like it would have been in the 1940s. What is 40s fashion?

She had 3 days to figure it out and purchase it.

Saturday night at 6pm sharp the buzzer for her apartment sounded. Natasha smoothed her red floral tea dress and checked her hair and makeup one last time. She had looked over a few beauty blogs to try and get the style right. She thought she did a good job because now she looked like a red headed Veronica Lake. She was nervous and wanted to make him smile with how she looked, to impress him.

Damn it, why am I so nervous? I haven't felt like this since my first mission. It's not like this is a real date with a guy I like. It is just a lesson.

Taking a breath to steady herself she pressed the intercom. "Yes?" she asked.

"Hey Natasha, it's me. Are you ready to come down?" Steve answered

"You're not coming up?" Natasha spoke, keeping the disappointment she felt out of her voice.

"A bit too soon for that, don't you think? I mean this is our first date?"

Natasha smiled in spite of herself. "You're right. I'll be down in a minute."

Grabbing a red cardigan and her handbag she headed out the door and to the elevator. The ride down felt simultaneously like eternity and like no time at all. The elevator doors opened and she anxiously looked across the foyer for him, finally spying him waiting outside.

He was dressed in a 40s navy suit and tie, white shirt and black shoes. He looked ready for an old fashioned night on the town. His eyes caught hers and he smiled watching and waiting for her to make her way to him.

"Evening Rogers." She greeted him, a slight blush staining her cheeks.

"Evening Romanoff. You look great." He smiled.

Natasha gave a quick twirl, fanning out the skirt of her dress. "Like I'm a girl you would have taken out for a night on the town?"

"Definitely. I'm surprised at how accurate it is."

"What, didn't think I could follow instructions?"

"No, I had no doubt you could only that you would. I know you don't always like to. Shall we?" Steve held out his arm to her and she took it gladly.

Steve stopped after a few metres in front of a car and opened the passenger side door, holding it for her. Natasha raised an eyebrow questioningly but said nothing. If Steve wanted to have a 40s style date Natasha was going to comply, even if it chafed against her modern ideas. She slid gracefully into the seat and Steve closed the door for her before getting in to the drivers side.

"So where are you taking me?" Natasha asked

"I don't want to spoil it until we get there." Steve replied.

"Well can I guess?"

"You can try."

"Hmmm... well since you've got me dressed up like this I'm going to assume it's something you could have done in the 40s... so... taking me to a 40s movie at a retro cinema?"

Steve said nothing and didn't gesture yes or no, focusing on driving instead much to Natasha's amusement and annoyance.

"Not going to tell me? Then I'll keep guessing. Theatre. There is a showing of an old play you like?"

Steve was still silent, enjoying getting under her skin. It was rare in their interactions that he was the one annoying her and he relished the slight turn of the tables.

"Dinner? A ball game? Visiting a jazz lounge?" She fired off in rapid succession.

"Not telling. For once you are going to have to be surprised and on the other end of a secret."

Natasha unconsciously pouted her lips, luscious, bright red and inviting. No man had resisted them before. Steve caught a glimpse of them and was tempted not to tell but to lean over and kiss her. He held out because his date plans did not include traffic accident and talking to the police.

"We're almost there. And I think you'll enjoy it."

Steve parked the car, walked around the car and let her out before he lead her into a hall. There was a reception desk set up with a cash box, cards, pens and clipboards with a man and woman also dressed in 40s attire.

"Hi! Is it your first time here?" Enquired the woman

"It sure is." Steve acknowledged.

"Swell, I'll just get you started. Just fill in this registration form, pay the class fee and go on through."

"Easy. Here, Natasha." Steve handed her a pen and the forms first allowing Natasha to finally see where they were and what they were doing.

"Swing dance lessons?" Natasha asked quizzically

"I thought it would be something fun for both of us to learn."

"Learn? You mean you never went?"

"I went to the dances with my friends. I just never had anyone that wanted to partner with me before."

Natasha looked at him puzzled before she remembered that he was once looked like a scrawny 14 year old even though he was well into his 20s. Women probably didn't give him a second or even first glance let alone their hand as a dance partner.

"Right. But didn't you ever learn any moves from watching or your friends?"

"Not really. The guys didn't want to play the girl for me and I wasn't keen to be thrown about by them to practice. But I'm sure you and I can pick it up."

Steve took Natasha's hand as they entered the dance hall. He helped her remove her cardigan, her breath catching in her throat from his tender touch. He removed his jacket as Natasha placed her items on the seat next to him. He took her hand again as they went to line up since the instructor had called the class to start. About 20 people were there.

"Welcome to our introduction to swing class and dance party. Tonight we are going to be covering the basics and teaching you a simple routine. Now if I can get you to line up ladies on the right, gentlemen on the left we can get started. No don't worry if you didn't bring a partner tonight, we will be switching through every few minutes."

Natasha whispered to Steve "Switching partners? Did you know about that?"

"I had no idea. I guess I'd better impress you while I have you."

The lesson started with a showing of the routine they would be doing about 4 or 5 different moves. With the first partner it was simple footwork before they switched partners.

They worked on the footwork for the first move, switched, the hands and feet of the first move, switched, foot work for the second, switched, hands and legs for the second move, switched, then the first and second move together and so on and so forth for the rest of the class.

Natasha was really enjoying herself despite not being familiar with swing dancing and having an aversion to partner dancing in general. In dancing you had to follow your male partners lead which was something Natasha was not used to doing.

The constant changing partners of partners was both a blessing and a curse. She didn't spend all her time with Steve and show him how vulnerable she felt with this new way of being close and intimate. The curse side is she was being that kind of close with 9 other men who were all strangers.

When she could she snuck peeks at him. He seemed relaxed, happy and in his element. His moves were graceful, clear and decisive. Exactly what you'd want from your partner. The other women noticed it as well.

He chatted, smiled and even laughed with some of his partners but Natasha wasn't jealous. Most of the women were older than Steve by a good 15 or so years. The ones closer to their age had come with partners.

But why would I be jealous? This isn't really a date. Or should I put myself in the mindset of this being a first date so I can give him more accurate feedback?

The instructor called the lesson to a close after one final run through of the routine but then announced "That free dancing would now begin. Feel free to mingle and dance with everyone. And for your beginners out there you can mix those moves we taught you in any order and repeat them. The dance party starts now!"

It was then that Natasha noticed quite a few new people had entered the hall, clearly more experienced dancers. Natasha was aware that amongst the women at the edge of the dance floor there were murmurs about the two of them. She was too far away to tell if it was because of their identities, looks or skills. Normally she wouldn't give a damn about other women's thoughts about her but was hoping that Steve wouldn't be mobbed and have the date he planned ruined.

Natasha was too busy observing them that she wasn't immediately aware of Steve coming up on her right.

"May I have the next dance?"

"Sure."

And with that they stood in the starting position. Steve lead her through the routine once before switching the moves around. As partners in battle they could read each others signs and anticipate each others moves. Everything flowed between them and when Steve decided to improvise an over the head lift Natasha went with it. She trusted him to have her back and committed to the move fully.

It was a perfect finishing move. And then the song ended. Steve let her down gently, his hand lingering on her waist for a second before letting go. Natasha was aware of the looks and attention they were getting. The whispers.

"Thanks for the dance Steve."

"Thank you for being a great partner, Natasha. Drink?"

Natasha nodded and watched as Steve made his way across the room to fetch her some water but not before being stopped by a few women asking to be his next partner. She was so entranced watching his interactions that she almost didn't notice the guy who was asking her to dance.

He was one of the younger guys there and as she hadn't seen him in class she assumed he was an experienced dancer. Tall, dark hair and a lithe body. She caught some of the women around her muttering enviously.

"Hi, I'm Max. Can I have this dance?"

"Uhhh" Natasha's eyes flicked over to the other side of the room. There was a line at the bar and it would probably take Rogers a good 90 seconds to cross the room once he got the drinks. She had time.

"Okay."

"Great. What's your name."

"Natasha."

And with that he whisked her off to the floor. He lead her through some more complex moves and was talking to her the whole time, trying to find out more about her. His curiosity was piqued as she was new, pretty and seemed great at dancing despite her not having done swing before that day.

At the end of the song we smiled at her and said he hoped to see her around and maybe they could dance again before she left?

"Maybe." Was Nats reply. She spotted Steve waiting by their stuff with two glasses of water.

"Have a good dance, Natasha?"

"It was ok. I'm not sure if that was because of my partner or me though."

Steve handed her a glass and Natasha thanked him, drinking about half before they were both approached by more people asking to dance and with that both of their jealousies cooled. It seemed like it was pretty standard to be asked and share dances with many people.

Steve kept an eye on the time and after about half an hour he made his way to Natasha.

"One last dance then we leave?"

"Oh, so there is more than this for our date?"

"I'm not just a one trick pony, Natasha."

They took to the floor once more and moved in perfect harmony. Steve was a fast learner and tried out some of the more intersting moves he had seen and Natasha was able to keep up with him. Their eyes locked onto each other and neither of them could stop smiling or laughing. Even with the other partners swing dancing was fun, more fun than either had thought.

As the song ended Steve pulled on Natasha's hand. "Come on, let's get out of here."

The grabbed their stuff and slipped away quietly to his car. Steve again held the door open for her and treated her like a 40s lady. Natasha didn't mind this time. She was really getting into the spirit of pretending she was back in time, like they were on a date when he would have been young.

He pulled into a parking spot at a place halfway between the dance hall and her apartment. Natasha's eyes quickly scanned the street for any clue of where he was taking her next as she waited for him to come around and open her door. Nothing jumped out at her.

Steve once again took her arm as they walked about half a block to a nice Italian restaurant. He gave his name to the hostess and was lead to a nice booth. They decided to share a pizza and a pasta and Steve let Natasha order the wine as he knew little about them.

The conversation flowed between them, initially about how much fun the class was and all about the people they had met. Natasha picked up on the edge in Steve's voice as he asked about Max. They moved on to talking about their funny anecdotes and stories from childhood, teen years and missions and laughter was often heard coming from both.

Natasha was careful to ask questions to prompt Steve to open up and do most of the talking, sharing one story for about every three of his. And never talking about her childhood. It was all harshness, training, pain and misery. Not the lighthearted hijinx Steve and his friends got into. It was enjoyable to see another side of him, to delve into his past and get to know the events that had shaped him, what made him tick. After their mains were finsihed Steve moved to stand and motioned for Natasha to do the same.

"We aren't getting desert?"

"Not from here." He held his hand out to her and she took it, interlacing their fingers for the first time that night.

He paid and took her for a stroll until he found the ice cream store he had researched. They each ordered a cone, he paid again and the left. One hand on their ice cream, the other hand entwined with their date.

Natasha was blown away by the thoughtfulness and planning Steve had shown. It was a great date to showcase him as he was and what he was comfortable with. Swing dancing of course he knew from his youth. The restaurant was a perfect choice. Not so fancy there was too much pressure but not so casual it felt like there was no thought or effort. And a nice stroll with desert to cap it off was an excellent touch.

As far as a first date went she would have to give him top marks. They finished up their ice creams in sight of Steve's car. Once again he opened and closed the door for her, Natasha no longer weirded out by the gesture but making a mental note to tell him not to do that as most women would find it patronising.

Almost too soon they were pulling up in front of her building. Natasha let out a small sigh. She was having such a nice time that she didn't want it to end. This was the first time in a long time or possibly ever that she had been out with a man who didn't have an agenda or was trying to sleep with her. There was no pressure of a mission with the world or her life at stake. It was like normal people would feel when they dated.

Steve let her out of the car and walked her to the door of her building.

"I had a really great time tonight, Cap."

"I'm glad to hear that."

Natasha looked down shyly, fiddling with her keys. When she brought her eyes back up she could see he had closed the distance between them taking a half step forward. He brought his right hand up to her face tilting her chin up, leaning in and meeting her lips with his. He kissed her gently before she deepened it, her arms wrapping around his neck and pulling them closer but still soft, tender and sweet. Finally they broke apart.

"Good night, Natasha."

"Good night, Steve."

She watched as he got into his car and started the engine. Her knees were weak, heart racing and she was slightly dizzy. That was one hell of a goodnight kiss. He hadn't driven away yet, he was waiting for her to enter the building and wanted to make sure she got home safe.

She finally put the key in the lock to let herself into the building, reluctant to let the night end. He flashed the lights at her as he pulled away. Natasha watched him progress up the street until he turned the corner.

She let out a soft sigh and finally made her way to the elevators to get back into her apartment. This date with Steve and especially that kiss had given her a lot to think about.